Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
The whole calories on the menu thing was starting to lose its appeal, especially when she wanted to stress eat, and right now, she was regretting the lighter option.
“It’s only Thursday, which means you had probably less than three full days in Hawaii.” Emily scoffed.
“I was needed in D.C. tomorrow for an emergency meeting.” Emily’s best friend, Sam, worked for the Intelligence Committee. They’d been friends since college, and they’d both gotten each other through some tough times.
And right now, she wanted to cry on Sam’s shoulder and confess her Vegas mistake, but at the same time she didn’t want to share the news.
“You could’ve said no,” she reminded Sam. “It was your honeymoon.” She set her fork down and leaned back in the chair at Mariano’s, her favorite Italian eatery. “And you,” Emily shifted her gaze to Owen, “could’ve tied her down and kept her in Hawaii.”
Owen flashed a smile and glimpsed Sam out of the corner of his eye. “As much as I wanted to, you know I can’t stand in the way of a woman trying to save the world.”
“You deserved those ten days of sheer bliss. Sunbathing. Drinking. Swimming with sharks. You know, whatever makes you happy.”
Sam tucked her short, dark hair behind her ears. “A couple of days is better than nothing.” She reached for Owen’s hand atop the table, and he clasped her palm.
“Well, it’s not like you two do anything at half-speed.” She thought about their last-minute decision to get married at the same time as another couple: Luke Scott and his wife, Eva Reed.
And great, Vegas was back on her mind. What if Sam spotted the afterglow she couldn’t seem to shake every time thoughts of Liam buzzed around.
Emily’s eyelids sealed tight as memories from Vegas obliterated every other thought in her head.
Liam on one knee.
The pinging slot machines filling her ears.
His kill-me-now-greenish-blue eyes focused on her.
“How about we make it three weddings?” he’d asked.
Only fragments of that night were filed in her memory bank; the rest of the evening was one messy blur.
It hadn’t been a full-on Hangover movie kind of evening, but still, she’d woken up naked in bed with Liam. And, oh yeah, married to the guy.
Emily’s tongue pinned to the roof of her mouth, resisting the impulse to blurt out what else had happened the night of the double-wedding ceremony—no—triple wedding.
“We’re going to head to Charleston after my meeting tomorrow. You want to come?” Sam asked, ripping Emily’s focus back to the present.
She opened her eyes. “Did your wife just invite me on a romantic getaway with you two?”
Owen smirked and lifted his free hand in the air as if to say, she does what she wants.
“I think I’ll pass.” Emily’s lips stretched into a smile. “Besides, I’m working a pretty intense case right now.”
Plus, there was the other issue. She needed to get Liam to sign annulment papers. One minor problem: she didn’t have his phone number or address. And he wasn’t exactly listed online.
Despite all of her resources working cases for the FBI, ATF, DEA, and so forth, she couldn’t find much of anything about Liam. She managed to find only one next of kin Stateside, which was his grandfather.
“When are your friends getting back from their trip?” Emily casually asked Owen. It’d been the trip that stole Liam away from her before they could really make sense of their wild night.
“Luke and Eva?” Owen wrapped a hand around his beer bottle.
“No, your, uh, other friends. Like Liam.” Way to be discreet.
A smile teased his lips, but when she chanced a look at Sam, there was only concern in her eyes. Her best friend was way too protective of her. But in all fairness, Emily was the same with Sam.
“The boys got back this morning. It was a quick trip.” He straightened in his seat and brought the rim of the bottle to his lips. It hovered there as he studied her as if trying to read her thoughts.
“You ever going to tell me the truth about what you all really do?” Emily crossed her arms, trying to maintain control of her nerves.
He took a long swig before lowering his beer. “You know what we do.”
Yeah, she knew what he’d told her they did, but she’d bet her life savings on the fact there was way more to it than that.
“Did they fly into New York?” She was pushing the envelope, and probably about to trigger some major red flags, but stealth-mode had never been her signature go-to.
Some said she was honest to a fault, especially when it came to prosecuting cases. But it’d take a hell of a reason for her to deviate from her norm.
“You okay?” Sam let go of Owen’s hand.
“Uh, yeah.”
Owen rested his elbows on the table on each side of his empty plate. He hadn’t ordered the skinny option, and considering how much he and the guys worked out—they probably had the annoying ability to eat eight full meals a day.
“They went to our home office in Manhattan.”
“Scott and Scott Securities?”
“Yeah.”
“Would I be able to get Liam’s number?” There. I said it.
“Why?” Sam leaned forward.
“After this case, I was thinking about heading to Australia for vacation. If anyone would have advice on how to avoid getting bitten by a snake, or uh, a crocodile, it’d be him, right?” Bull. Bull. Shit. And . . . she was lying. Moral compass out the window—heading for Australia, apparently.
“You planning on kicking it in the outback?” Owen reached for his beer again, and she used the moment to buy herself some time to think.
“Sydney.” She swallowed, attempting to dislodge the bullshit from her throat. “Have you been there?” She grabbed her wine glass and sucked it bone-dry.
“Once for work.” Owen tilted his head, amusement in his eyes. She didn’t want to know what he was thinking.
“Since when do you have time for a vacation, especially one so far away?” Sam grabbed her martini and took a sip.
Wine gave Sam headaches, but since Emily loved it, Sam always kept her place stocked with Riesling and Cabernet Sauvignon. Talk about a real friend. A friend she needed to come clean to about Liam, and soon.
“You barely made it to Vegas for our wedding,” Sam added.
“In my defense, you gave me a three-hour heads-up.”
“Well, why don’t you wait until I can join you? Maybe we can make a girls’ trip out of it?”
“Sure, and let you get attacked by a shark or something?” Owen rolled his eyes, and Sam swatted his bicep.
“Anyway, would you mind if I call Liam and ask him about Sydney?” She lifted her shoulders. “You know, for whenever I get a chance for some R and R?”
“How about you give me your number, and I’ll have him call you?”
“What? You don’t trust Emily with Liam’s number?” Sam twisted to the side, her lips pinched in a hard line.
“No, babe, it’s not that.” He shook his head. “Liam won’t answer a call from a number he doesn’t recognize. Trust me, I know him.”
“I can leave a voicemail, and he can call me back,” Emily blurted, because the idea of Owen talking to Liam about her . . . just no.
Then again, wouldn’t Liam seek her out, too? Wouldn’t he want the wedding to cease from existence?
Since he was back from wherever he ran off to for work—he’d find her, right?
“You know, never mind. I’ll just Google Australia.”
“No, you most certainly will not.” Sam’s hand disappeared under the table.
“Not in public,” Owen said with a laugh.
“Funny,” Sam grumbled. “I’m trying to get your phone out of your pocket.”
Owen rattled off Liam’s digits a moment later. “I’ll let him know to expect a call from you.”
Why didn’t I just keep my mouth shut? “Thanks.” She programmed Liam’s number before she forgot it, then stowed her phone back in her purse. “I should get home. Thanks for dinner.”
“What’s the rush?” Sam asked.
“I kind of have a curfew.” And now she knew Sam would take worrying about her to an all-new level.
Sam’s palm landed on the table by her plate. “Say what?”
“The man we’re trying to prosecute is dangerous, and my boss and the FBI think it’s best if I stick to daylight hours.”
“Emily!”
“You know my job has some risks.” She jerked her thumb toward the window which overlooked the street. “I have a bodyguard. He’s driving me around, and he and another guy rotate the night shift.”
Sam gathered in a deep breath and slowly let it go. “I don’t like this.”
“Comes with the territory.”
“Owen, do something.” Sam elbowed him in the side.
“We can pull some guys from Scott and Scott to keep an eye on you, too,” he suggested after eying Sam’s pout. “We have a few people in the area. Former Teamguys who take gigs like these.”
“No, that won’t be necessary,” Emily was quick to reply. “The extra protection I’m already getting is overkill.” She reached across the small table and placed her palm over Sam’s hand. “I’ll be fine. I’ve been doing this job for forever. Besides, I don’t even know if we have a case, yet.”
Sam’s forehead creased. The familiar guilt crossed her face. “And last year you could’ve gotten shot because of me, and—”
“But I didn’t.” Emily retracted her arm and settled her hand in her lap.
“Because of Owen and his team,” Sam replied. “So, let his people help you this time.”
“If I feel like things are getting dangerous I’ll ask for help. But like I said, we’re still in the preliminary stages of the case.”
“Yet, you have a bodyguard.” Sam folded her arms. “How about you stay with us?”
“No,” she shot back right away. “You just got married.” And you have way too much sex.
Sex. She stiffened at the thought, wishing she could remember what sex with Liam had been like. Of course, that part of the night had to be foggiest of all.
She shifted off the seat and stood, but her jaw clenched at the sight of a tall and super well-built man at the bar, his narrowed gaze on her. He gave her the creeps.
She closed her eyes, trying to chase away her paranoia. But her thoughts immediately landed on Liam.
“We pulled a Ross and Rachel. This isn’t supposed to happen in real life.” She’d clutched the bedsheet to her body as if it were the only thing protecting her from the truth of what had happened.
“A what?” Liam had smiled.
“The Friends episode where they get married. You’ve never watched that show?” She’d gawked at him. Mouth unhinged. Floor, meet jaw. Jaw, meet floor.
“Ah, no.” His hands had gone to his hips, and his gaze had journeyed to the carpet beneath his bare feet.
“Emily?” She opened her eyes to find Sam standing in front of her next to the table. “You okay?”
“Too much wine, and I drank it too fast.” More lies. She owed her friend a really nice purse after all of this. “Good thing I have a driver, huh?”
“I don’t like this,” Sam said as they left the restaurant a few minutes later, the sun starting to trade places with the moon in the sky.
“You promise I won’t wake up with ten bodyguards outside my door tomorrow?” Emily pressed an index finger against Owen’s chest.
He held a palm in the air. “Promise, but if anything happens to you Sam will kill me. So, if you care about me, you’ll—”
“Call you if I feel I’m in danger,” she finished and released an Oscar-worthy sigh.
“Fine.” Sam hugged her. “I love you, but maybe find a new job?”
Emily chuckled. “Um, you’re one to talk, missy.”
“She has a point,” Owen said with a laugh.
After they parted ways, Emily climbed into the back of the black town car. She stared at Liam’s saved number on the screen of her phone.
Maybe he was already on his way to end their marriage.